


hurtling

by wearethewitches



Series: sixty-seven thousand miles an hour | the doctor is not a monk [2]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst and Feels, Family Reunions, Gen, Post-Episode AU: s04e08-09 Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23094757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearethewitches/pseuds/wearethewitches
Summary: "…you’re brave," is the first thing she says, the second being, "and quiet."or, Grace meets his mother for the first time.
Relationships: River Song & Original Character(s)
Series: sixty-seven thousand miles an hour | the doctor is not a monk [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652698
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	hurtling

_She’s tall._

Compared to Grace, his mother is fully grown – _obviously_ – with broad shoulders and muscled arms, curly blonde hair just like his own falling over her shoulders like a waterfall. The Library itself looks like a playground, with red and yellow bars and a blue slide, his mother sat on a bench looking onto it. A girl, all by herself, plays on the monkey bars, River Song watching her with care.

Fidgeting – feeling the difference between reality and the simulation – Grace makes his way over to the bench, seating himself down beside her.

“…you’re brave,” is the first thing she says, the second being, “and quiet. Like the Doctor when he’s thinking, I suppose, or your grandfather.”

Curious, Grace peers at her expression. Her face is hidden by her hair and he wants to _see_ her.

“My grandfather?”

“Rory Williams – my father. He was a friend of the Doctor’s.”

“Was he nice?”

River Song pauses, the silence stretching out between them as she struggles to answer. Eventually, she looks his way, meeting his eyes. Grace stays still, a habit he’s been unable to break. The scientists didn’t like it when he moved.

His mother abruptly pales. “Sweetie,” she mutters, “you’re made of thoughts, here. I should have known they would try something like this.”

_Made of thoughts? What does she mean by that?_

River moves closer to him, her knee brushing his own. Grace startles upon realising he’s wearing his familiar grey shirt and trousers, the ones with holes meant for tubes and wires that he doesn’t have anymore – and his freckles are gone. Grace looks at his own hands, freaking out when his freckles reappear. Fingers snake between his, locking them down on his lap.

River Song gazes at him in wonder, drinking in the sight of him. “I know that you weren’t treated right by Kovarian and the Order, but here, your thoughts are reality. You can look however you want, wear whatever you want. Do you want to try?”

Grace does. Grace wants to look like how he does in reality, down to the mud splatter on his shoes, with curly hair, freckles and brown eyes. A moment later, he feels a shift, the simulation changing – and then he’s like he wants to be, complete with his blue jumper. River makes a rumbling noise of approval, gently patting down his shoulder, pushing off a bit of fluff.

“Good,” she says. It makes Grace feel warm inside. She smiles at him and his hearts flutter inside his chest, hope effusing through him as she reaches across to press her lips to his forehead. “I wish I knew you before this.”

“So do I,” mumbles Grace, before he takes a leap of faith – the Doctor had been encouraging them to show affection whenever they liked and he takes a chance, arms reaching out to wrap around her. For a moment, he forgets it’s all a simulation, memorising the shape of her and the sound of her hearts beneath his ear.

River Song hugs him back tightly and he feels something drip down onto his cheek: a tear.

 _You’re bigger than Mum_ , he thinks, almost pushing it towards her. She hums and Grace hears her voice like she’s speaking – but it’s quiet and instant, like a message sent straight into his mind.

 _Small this time round, is she? It’s been a while._ And then, Grace can see other people, a slideshow of men – some old, some young, but all touched with the emotion that is River’s love. _The Doctor,_ she tells him, _and all their faces._ For a moment, the familiar face of his mum appears, with a teary smile and blonde hair that needs tucked behind her ear.

“I love your mother very much,” says River, “and I want to get to know you, as much as I can from inside here.”

“I can’t stay long,” he mumbles, afraid he’ll never see her again. “The connection can only hold as long as my body is okay.”

“I know, darling – I know.”

Grace hugs her tighter, squeezing his eyes shut. “My name is Grace.”

He hears her whisper it – _“Grace.”_ – before she kisses his head again, hauling him onto her lap and burrowing his face in the crook of her neck. Her hair tickles and Grace sneezes, a chuckle reverberating through her chest against him.

Sitting there, feet dangling off the bench, all his weight supported by her steel grip, Grace feels wanted. Safe. He doesn’t know his mother, but he wants to.

He really, really wants to.

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: first meeting
> 
> so, like.........turns out i'm writing more of this 'verse. i have no idea what to call it. turning 'verse? uhhhhhhhhhhh. if anyone has any ideas, please leave a comment!
> 
> i also accept any prompts/requests! either comment or leave an ask in my [ tumblr inbox](https://wearethewitches.tumblr.com/ask) and i'll put it in here somewhere!


End file.
